Chapter 17
Sumner
After we’d both taken quick showers and gotten dressed, we headed downstairs to where April was parked.
Even though I’d seen her before, the sight still stopped me for a second.
The bike was big, heavy, and dangerous-looking.
Everything about it screamed power and risk.
And somehow, it fit Sly perfectly. I couldn’t even imagine him in a car.
I smiled as I looked from the bike to him. “Are we taking her?”
Sly shot me an amused look, one eyebrow raising slightly. “That’s what I was hoping.”
I studied April again, stepping closer, my fingers brushing against the edge of the tank. The metal was cool under my hand. “You’re really letting me ride her?”
“Baby,” he said, his voice low, “I’d let you ride two more things.”
The comment caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to men trying to flirt, especially not like this. But the way he said it wasn’t gross or pushy. It was playful. Almost hesitant. I bit my lip, eyes fixed on him, testing him. “Like what?”
For a second, he froze, like he hadn’t expected me to call him out on it. A nervous chuckle slipped out of him, his hand going to the back of his neck. He looked like he regretted saying it the moment it left his mouth. “Uh…I’ll tell you another day.”
“No,” I said, stepping a little closer. “Tell me now.”
His smirk shifted into something softer, but there was still a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “It’s not appropriate,” he admitted, his tone slow and careful. “I don’t want you thinking I only think about sexual stuff when I’m with you.”
The way he said it made it clear he cared how I saw him, and for some reason, that mattered more to me than I thought.
“I know you don’t,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Tell me. What other two things would you let me ride?”
He blinked, like he was running through the answers in his head and weighing the consequences of saying either of them out loud.
For my part, I wasn’t shocked by his pause.
I’d read and edited enough romance books to know where a conversation like this could go, and I was honest with myself about what I liked and didn’t.
What I hadn’t had with Joey was anything resembling choice or pleasure.
It had always been obligation and tension, so the idea of something being offered freely felt unfamiliar and a little dangerous.
Still, I wanted him to say it. To see how I felt about his words and how my body would react.
He rubbed the back of his neck again. His eyes were tight, then he let out a little, sheepish laugh and answered exactly what I’d been thinking. “My cock. And my face.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I turned my head to stare at April, buying myself time to react.
Yeah, that felt nice. I had told him that we’d just be friends for now, but even I couldn’t deny that something was growing between us.
Something real and lasting. I pursed my lips, then said, “Maybe we should start with April first. Also, I don’t have a helmet. ”
He waved that aside without missing a beat, sliding his own helmet from where it hung on the bike. “Take mine,” he said. He handed it to me like it was the most natural thing in the world, then moved closer to fit it on my head. He adjusted the chin strap carefully until it sat right.
“How’s that feel?” he asked, his voice softer than before as he nudged the helmet into place. “Nice and snug?”
I nodded, surprised at how small tasks like tightening a strap felt intimate with him. “Yeah. Feels good.”
He grinned, then slapped the visor down with a quick motion that made me laugh. “Keep that down,” he ordered.
I didn’t question anything and waited for him to guide me. He moved closer to April and put down two small black bars on either side of the bike. I guessed those were where I’d put my feet.
“What are those called?” I asked, pointing at them.
“These are the foot pegs,” he said simply.
Got it.
I watched him for a moment as he swung himself onto April. He looked effortless, like he belonged there, like the bike was a part of him. That explained why he had her, I supposed. He fit the whole biker thing completely.
I lifted my visor to meet his eyes. “Isn’t it dangerous not wearing a helmet?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it is. But I’ll go slow, and it’s not far.”
“Okay,” I said, letting the words fall.
“Visor down,” he instructed, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“That’s your username,” I teased.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Sure is. Alright, hop on. Hands on my shoulders, push yourself up.”
I did exactly that, planting myself on the small seat behind him. He leaned slightly, adjusting his balance, and added, “Watch out for the exhaust.”
I glanced down. “Why?”
“It gets hot when we start moving. Keep your feet on the pegs.”
“Okay. Where do I put my hands?”
“Around my waist. Hold tight.”
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him, gripping firmly. “Like this?”
“Perfect. Once we’re moving, I probably won’t hear you. If you need me to stop, tap me twice.”
I made a mental note. “Got it. Anything else?”
He turned his head just enough to put his eyes on me. “Move with me. When I lean, you lean. Only adjust when I stop.”
“Okay, understood,” I said.
“Good. Then let’s go.” He pressed a quick kiss to the visor, and I smiled at the small gesture.
Each time he did something small like that, I felt myself ease a little more around him. He never crowded me but still found quiet ways to show me what affection felt like.
My heart hammered in my chest when he started the motor, and I instinctively hugged him tighter, worried I might slip once we were moving.
But as soon as he eased April onto the road, the nerves settled a little.
He kept one hand on my leg at first, tapping it gently, as if to remind me he was there and to make everything easier.
The ride was smooth, and I realized I’d never felt anything quite like this driving down Main Street, with the wind rushing past, and every sense alive in an unexpected way.
I caught myself grinning under the helmet, glad nobody could see how ridiculous I looked. Riding on a bike felt completely different. It was thrilling, and I wanted to experience it over and over.
When he slowed at a red light, my body shifted too far forward, and my helmet bumped the back of his head.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, slapping a hand over the visor and then cupping the back of his head. “Are you hurt?”
He turned, letting out a soft laugh. “I’m fine, baby. Try putting your hands on the tank next time. It’ll stop you from leaning forward.”
“Okay, I’ll remember that,” I said, gently rubbing the spot where I’d hit him. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”
“I’m okay,” he said, tilting his head slightly to press another kiss against the visor. “Really. Don’t worry about me.”
I smiled and relaxed again, letting myself settle into the ride as he continued down the street, keeping the bike steady and smooth.
As much respect as I still had for this bike, I wished he’d drive faster. And maybe never stop. I could see us just keep on driving, leaving everything in this town behind, and start over in a place where nothing had been stained with pain before.
***
I wasn’t usually indecisive, but everything on the menu looked good and I kept changing my mind. I could feel the waitress getting impatient, and when I looked up, she said, “I can come back.”
“No, no. I’ll…I’ll have the blueberry pancakes, please.” The words came out too fast. I could feel my face heating at what should’ve been a normal interaction.
She started to write it down, and I immediately second-guessed myself. “Actually…may I have the French toast instead?” I forced a smile that probably wasn’t convincing.
The waitress raised a brow. For a second, I wondered why anyone would work in service if being around people rubbed them the wrong way, but then I reminded myself that everyone had bad days. I didn’t take it personally.
“Sorry,” I added.
“What is it now?” she asked bluntly.
“The French toast. And a peppermint tea, please.” I said it firmer this time, so there was no mistake.
She wrote it down and glanced at Sly. “For you, sir?”
“The blueberry pancakes and a black coffee. Thank you.” He answered without looking phased.
When she left, I gave him a tight smile. My stomach still did a small twist from that exchange. He noticed the way I’d tightened, the way I wasn’t breathing right. He leaned back in his chair and said, “Unhappy people tend to take it out on others.”
It took me a moment to follow him. He meant the waitress. She’d been short because she was annoyed. “I did take a long time deciding,” I admitted, feeling small.
“And that’s fine. You’re the customer,” he said.
That should’ve closed the matter, but I still felt unsettled. Then he smiled and offered, “You can have some of my pancakes, too.”
The simple fact that he’d probably ordered the pancakes because of me hit harder than I expected. My throat tightened and, without meaning to, my eyes watered. I tried to blink it away.
“Hey.” He reached across the table and laid his hand over mine, his thumb tracing the back of my hand. “What’s wrong?”
I shrugged because I honestly didn’t know how to answer. “I’m okay,” I said, and the words were somewhat true. My hand had fisted under his hand, and the pressure steadied me.
“These are good feelings,” I told him, looking down at our joined hands and then up at his face. The lightness in my chest was new and confusing, but it was real. It wasn’t panic or fear. It felt like something steady that I had yet to let accommodate inside of me.
“Good,” he said, and squeezed my hand. “It’s good you know that.”
I let a small laugh slip out. “You ordered the pancakes because I wanted them first?”
He shrugged, telling me that it was no big deal. “Yeah, we can share.”
It was another small gesture that made me feel seen.
I thought about how little it would take for my days to feel ordinary again with Sly being a steady part of my life. He was someone who noticed what I liked, who stayed when I asked, and didn’t make me nervous or fearful.
My cheeks suddenly burned as I admired him. “Sly?”
“Yes, Sumner?”
“I think I want you to stay.”
He knew what I meant, and there was no reason for me to explain. He understood, and with another squeeze, he lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
He was promising to stay without saying it, but his actions had already spoken louder than any words ever could.